


I've got this feeling that we're dead, I've got this feeling that we're dead and theres nothing wrong

by Mostly_Dead_Probably_Queer



Series: Dead Men Dont Sleep [1]
Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Alex Mercer Has Anxiety (Julie and the Phantoms), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Luke Patterson Has ADHD (Julie and The Phantoms), M/M, Multi, No beta we die like Sunset Curve, Reggie Peters Has ADHD (Julie and The Phantoms)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:22:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28863249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mostly_Dead_Probably_Queer/pseuds/Mostly_Dead_Probably_Queer
Summary: Ghosts falling in love
Relationships: Alex Mercer/Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms), Alex Mercer/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Bobby | Trevor Wilson/Alex Mercer/Luke Patterson/Reggie Peters/Willie, Luke Patterson/Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms)
Series: Dead Men Dont Sleep [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2116650
Comments: 14
Kudos: 53





	1. I Went to Sleep, but I Woke Up Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Bobby has some dark thoughts. Please be careful with yourselves

I Went to Sleep, but I Woke Up Dead - E-Dubble “Changed my mind” (Bobby)  
Chapter 1 in I’ve Got This Feeling That We’re Dead, I’ve Got This Feeling That We’re Dead and There’s Nothing Wrong - Gabriel Bruce “Sleep Paralysis”

Bobby missed sleep. Or, really, he missed the idea of sleep. It’d been too long since he had some decent shut eye to even compare it to anything. It wasn’t a big deal. Not sleeping didn’t affect Bobby’s ability to play guitar and at this point in his life, being in Sunset Curve was the only thing that mattered. He was just tired. All the time. It was catching up with him, slowly but surely. Resting is what he missed most. Sure, Bobby could chill out with the guys and he was happy playing music, but that wasn’t the same as being able to relax. He’s not as high strung as Alex and he never will be, but Bobby really, really gets why sometimes the drummer snaps. He’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders. But the fact is, so does Bobby.

He can’t tell them. It’s not that he doesn’t want to. Bobby wants, desperately, to be as open as Reggie, or as vulnerable as Luke. The way the bassiest gives love away, like his parents aren’t humanoid monsters, like they actually taught him what affection is and honestly where Reggie learned is still a mystery, is awe-inspiring. Reg could blind Bobby with his smile and Bobby would thank him. Luke is the same way. Both boys wear their hearts on their sleeves, or in Luke’s case, his wrist, because the guy has some silent vendetta against hiding his biceps. Luke writes his soul into every line of their songs. If Bobby let his jaw drop every time Luke came up with a new masterpiece, he’d catch flies every practice. Bobby loves that about his bandmates and he’s happy to support their dream. He would never ask them to stoop to his apathy. Bobby would never bring a cloud over Luke and Reg because he enjoys basking in their sun too much. It’s selfish, really. 

That’s why they can’t know. He doesn’t fit into the ideal they deserve. Bobby handles it. Sometimes it gets a little much. Like today. He knows there’s a physics test. He knows he has to get up. Bobby just can’t bring himself to care. School doesn’t matter. Luke is right about that, and has basically dropped out already. Maybe Bobby should just follow suit, but he’s too tired to even forge a letter to the school. The only thing that he gives a damn about is the band, and the boys will come to him for that. Bobby shakes the thought from his head. They’ll come to his garage for that. It’s getting more and more difficult to keep away from thoughts in that line. Only fear of sending them running and screaming away is keeping his big mouth shut. Bobby wouldn’t, anyway. If he makes things awkward, Luke, Reg and Alex are out of a home. All three of them take turns staying over, when things get too much. Bobby wonders briefly that, if his place is where you go when the world is kicking your ass, where should he go when he’s ready to give up? Bobby will just stay home. It’s close enough. And no one is ever around to bother him.

No one is around ever. Mom and dad both work. “It’s how we afford this house for you and all your leech friends, Robert” and “Who puts food on this table Robert? It sure as hell isn’t you”. Bobby knows this. He’s heard it often enough. Except, having a big empty house is just horror movie, creepy and usually dirty. Bobby thinks: I would be happier just living in the garage with the guys. He pushes it aside. His happiness isn’t worth anything. Bobby should be thankful. He should be thankful. It becomes a mantra. Running the place becomes second nature. Bobby makes sure the bills get in on time. Without electricity, the amps won’t work. Without water, Reg can’t shower. They have money to pay them, but mom can’t be bothered off the phone or away from her “one” glass of wine to keep the books balanced. Dad could do it, but why would he care when he’s never even home? His wife drinks herself into a stupor while he goes out with a “work friend” and happens to stay at an apartment under an alias. The worst thing is, his parents think Bobby doesn’t see it. He dies a little inside every time they play happy family for a christmas card or event. The pressure of running everything with no sleep is getting to him. Bobby scrubs a hand over his face and drags his ass out of bed.

Ultimately, his day is better for it. Bobby chugs some gas station coffee and makes it to school in time for the physics test. He’s pretty sure he passed, since he cheated off of Eugene Maine, an actual genius. Bobby isn’t a saint. Sue him if you have a problem. Alex notices. Because even though Sunset Curve shares one brain cell, Lex’s anxiety forces alertness on him. The blonde’s lips purse in a thin line. Bobby wonders for a second if the drummer would let him kiss the disappointed look off his face. He blinks slowly, banishing the thought. Alex catches him in the hall, hanging behind as Luke and Reggie continue on to math before lunch. He catches Bobby’s shoulders.  
“You know you don’t need to do that right?” His gaze is intense and level. Bobby’s mouth is suddenly dry.  
“Do what man?” Bobby shrugs him off. Alex’s expression gets worse, turning sad.  
“You’re so much more Bobs. If you just let yourself be.” Alex insists, using a familiar nickname.  
“Thanks Alex,” Bobby hopes he sounds less overwhelmed then he feels. “I’ll keep that under consideration.” And just like, Bobby is cool again. Alex nods stiffly and the pair walk to math in silence.

Luke and Bobby ditch after lunch. It’s the best option. Luke won’t focus on a damn thing in class, not when he has a melody rattling in his head and Bobby just doesn’t want to be there. Alex will keep Reg safe, steer him clear of trouble and bring him straight to practice after the last bell. It’s unlikely Reggie’s parents would be home, but it’s not a worthwhile risk. Luke hasn’t shut up since they left. He’s gesturing animatedly and practically bouncing. Bobby watches him go and feels himself smile. It’s been a long time since they’ve hung out, just the two of them. It’s intoxicating. Bobby finds himself thinking: who could look at him and fall in love? It’s a horrible thought and Bobby will kick himself for it later. He must frown too obviously and Luke full stops mid sentence and mid way up the drive to the garage. He turns sharply on his heels and takes both of Bobby’s shoulders in his hands. What is with them today and the physical touch? Bobby complains mentally. Though to be far, Emily had taught her son to be affectionate and God knows all of the band needs more hugs. Bobby lets it slide.  
“What is it bro?” Bobby tries for casual. It nearly comes off. Luke stares into his goddamn soul.  
“Bobby, are you good man?” His immediate thought is: lie, so he does.  
“Yeah, of course dude, let’s just rehearse.” Luke considers this. It seems to be tempting enough for him to let it go, but at the last second, Luke pulls him into a fierce hug. The kind he usually reserves for after Alex has an anxiety attack or after Reg has a bad run in with his parents. Bobby almost let’s himself relax into it, and he doesn't have enough self-control to not hug back. When Luke pulls away, Bobby immediately misses him. “Thanks Luke.” Bobby is genuine, because he can’t not be when Luke has that puppy dog look. Just like that, Luke brightens up.  
“No problem Bobs!” They go rehearse. It’s a lot to process in one day, and Bobby goes to bed with the lingering feeling of two different sets of hands on him. It’s the first time he sleeps through the night in years.

Weeks pass. Bobby starts to think he’s normal again. Yeah, every so often, he has to stamp down a stray thought about Luke’s voice, or the curve of Reggie’s lips or running his fingers through Alex’s hair. But yeah. He has a handle on his crisis. Bobby was always under the impression you could only have feelings for one person at a time. Apparently he’s just a special kind of messed up. Bobby sticks to routine like a drowning man clings to a life perseverer. He goes to school. He comes home. He doesn’t sleep. And in between all of it, he gets a gasp of air when he plays guitar for Sunset Curve. It’s the only time he doesn’t overthink everything or just shut down. When his fingers are flying over the strings, his brain goes quiet and Bobby lets himself get into a different headspace. Even that though, is becoming harder and harder lately. Bobby thinks: please god if you exist don’t take this from me too. But Bobby must already be too far gone, because nothing changes after that little prayer. His eyes still wonder.   
This practice is when he realizes he’s mastered playing guitar and pining over his bandmates. Alex is in the zone, tension melted out of his usually taught shoulders, and grin carefree in a way it never is around anyone but them. Bobby feels privileged to get to see it. Reggie and Luke are at the mic, singing so close they may as well be making out, and oh shit, that was not an image Bobby meant to put in his head. He places it firmly in a box in his head labeled:bad thoughts about your bandmates. Bobby only opens it on days where he feels really alone. That’s happening more and more often, but he likes to think the fact that he even keeps the box means he’s still decent. It would be worse to think those things with the boys right there. He just has to make it through this. It’s their last practice before the Orpheum show and it’s important. Bobby can do it. He can do it for them. Focus, he tells himself.  
Finally, finally, practice ends. Bobby does his best to smile as he waves at Luke and Alex as they walk down the drive. Reggie hangs back, but that’s no big deal. He stays over pretty much every night. Bobby is grateful he does. Thinking about literal ray of sunshine Reg having to go home to his shitty parents makes Bobby’s stomach churn. The only thing that’s different is the look he’s giving Bobby. It’s hard to place, but Reggie’s expression is definitely calculating. As someone who’s used to his own parents looking through him instead of at him, it sends shivers down Bobby’s spine. The sensation isn’t entirely unpleasant.  
“So,” Bobby starts awkwardly. “You just gonna crash here tonight man?” He ventures. It’s a dumb question, and before Bobby can say: forget it, Reggie is crossing the garage in long strides to pull Bobby into a fierce hug. It’s so sudden and unexpected that Bobby barely has time to keep the sob from escaping, instead it just turns to a lump in his throat. He’d like to be able to lie and say he doesn’t really know why this would make him cry, but the truth is right there and even Bobby, apathetic and fucked up as he is, can’t deny it. No one has ever held him, and sure as hell not like this.  
Reggie must hear him sniffly because he gently guides Bobby to sit down on “Luke’s” couch. It takes a full minute before Bobby remembers himself and his flight instincts kick in. He jerks out of Reggie’s arms and stands abruptly.   
“You know where the blankets are and stuff.” Bobby offers lamely, and turns to make his escape. If it was Alex, maybe he could have gotten away. The drummer understands needing to be alone. If it was Luke, he would have probably left first. The lead singer cannot handle people crying. It’s one of his few flaws. But Reggie isn’t like either of them, and the bassiest simply reaches out a hand and circles Bobby’s bicep. Bobby thinks briefly: damn his hand is so big. Before meeting his friend’s gaze. Reggie’s eyebrows are slightly furrowed and his emerald eyes are intense.   
“I see you Bobby.” It’s just a sentence, but it hits Bobby like a punch and he closes his eyes against the impact. “Alex, Luke and I. We all see you. You aren’t just our rhythm guitarist and I need you to know that.” The slight pitch in Reg’s voice has Bobby opening his eyes again. Now they’re both crying. “You’re so much more, if you would just let yourself be.” It’s almost an exact echo of what Alex told him so many weeks ago. It’s wildly out of place but Bobby laughs wetly.   
“I’m not worth anything.” It’s the most honest thing he’s ever admitted to anyone, and he just said it to Reggie. Reggie Peters, who’s worth the whole goddamn world to Bobby and the other guys in the band. Bobby expects pity to be reflected in Reg’s seeking look, but it’s not there. Instead, there’s something fierce. Reggie tugs him back down onto the couch.  
“God Bobby, you’re so good.” It is not what Bobby expected to come out of his mouth, and he’s honestly too shell shocked to answer. Reggie smiles, it’s a little sad. “You think I don’t notice, but I do. You run your whole house. You come to school.” Bobby is shaking his head, this is too hard to hear. He isn’t good. He just does those things. It’s not a big deal. He wants Reggie to stop. He never wants Reggie to stop. Like he can read his mind, Reggie is insistent. “You’re the best rhythm guitarist Sunset Curve could ever have. You show up to every gig, even when it’s as stupid as the time we played a book club.” Reggie gets quieter. “You let me and Alex stay here sometimes because you know that if we go home, something could happen.” Bobby whips his head up to meet Reggie’s eyes, ready to defend that statement. He’d give up his whole place if it meant knowing for certain that his boys were safe. He’d do it in less than a heartbeat. Reggie already knows that though, and this isn’t about him, or Alex. He grabs both of Bobby’s hands in his. “You don’t need to do any of that Honey.” The petname just slips. Reggie will worry about it later, but it’s worth it to see Bobby soften. “But you do. You’re amazing.” Bobby can’t handle it. He lets himself collapse into Reggie’s arms. Bobby doesn’t try to get back up. He stays the night with Reg, on the pullout couch. Bobby doesn’t mention it in the morning. He wants to say thank you, but he knows if he says anything, he’ll end up saying something he can’t ever take back. Like: I love you. So he settles for squeezing Reggie’s hand and making him breakfast.   
Reggie seems content with that. He doesn’t bring it up either. Chatters excitedly and takes off to get ready for the Orpheum gig. Bobby meets up with the boys later, feeling better than he has in a long time.  
After they rock the stage for soundcheck, Bobby makes a beeline for the girl wiping down tables. She’s pretty, and she was obviously into what they were playing. Luke and Alex give him a hard time about it, and Reggie gives the girl, Rose, a t-shirt. Then the three others head out for street dogs. Bobby almost stays. He nearly lets himself fall back into bad habits. But he can’t. Not after last night. Not when he’s feeling awake for the first time in years. He apologizes to the girl for cutting a great conversation short, but he has to catch up with the band. Rose understands. The smile Reggie gives him when he joins them is worth it. The four of them squeeze onto one couch, and Luke tells them they’re going to be legends.  
I went to sleep, but I woke up dead  
Then I changed my mind and I’m sorry  
Twenty-five years later, Rose’s daughter Julie brings them back to the land of the living and they get a second chance as Julie and the Phantoms. Bobby is determined to not let his weird head mess things up this time around. He does such a good job, he almost forgets about his pesky habit of falling in love with more than one person.  
Willie skates into their new “life” and reminds Bobby of what he always wanted. It makes it impossible for him to be satisfied with what he has. This time, Bobby isn't going to be a coward. He’ll figure out a way to be with four people at once. Bobby has to, or that’s what will kill him again.


	2. Wake Up, Say Good Morning to, That Sleepy Person Lying Next to You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like in the show, Luke struggles in this chapter with feeling selfish and feeling like he's "too much"  
> Be gentle with yourself! Don't read if it'll harm you

Wake Up, Say Good Morning to, that Sleepy Person Lying Next to you; if There's no one There, Then There's no one There - Stars "In Our Bedroom After the war" (Luke)

Luke never slept. Maybe not never, but rarely. There was always something keeping him awake. He was lucky and grateful that most nights it was a melody causing sleep to elude him. Sometimes it wasn't. More and more it wasn't. Everything did boil down to the band though. At its core, Luke's heart would always be Sunset Curve. And that's what was so troubling about the whole thing. It was like his soul was being torn in two. Mom had never been fond of the idea of him in a band, especially not a rock and roll one, but Luke had sort of figured she'd grow out of it. He had hoped she'd eventually support him, and the guys. Luke wanted desperately for Alex and Reggie, and yeah, Bobby too, to have another place to crash then the garage. You'd have to be blind to not see how the rhythm guitarist was drowning in that big, constantly empty house. His parents had never tried to make it into a home. Luke wanted to invite Bobby into his own, but that was rapidly deteriorating. Now Luke was determined to make the garage home. It would take a lot. Severing it from Bobby's house which it was literally physically connected to would be the hardest part. Convincing Alex and Reggie to stay forever would come easier, but it would definitely have to come after.  
After Luke leaves. He has a backpack full of everything he needs, and he can sneak back in if he forgets anything, which is most likely. Luke is forgetful about anything that isn't music. Anything that isn't the boys. Luke's head supplies unhelpfully. That's another thing that his mom fights him on. Luke thought maybe dad would back him up, but once he gets filled in, his parents are united against him. They fight about it every time he's home for longer than an hour or two, and soon, Luke just makes sure he's never home for longer than that. He knows it's idealist and stupid to hold onto, but Luke wants his parents to keep being his parents for a little longer.It's selfish really, and he doesn't tell the others about it a lot. Because, at least he had them you know? For seventeen years, he's had caring, loving parents.  
Bobby and Reggie never got that. Bobby's parents were never in love, getting married for the look of it, for the reputation boost it brought with it, and then they had one child. One perfect child, that would follow the rules and go with them to keep up appearances and not bother them otherwise. They got really damn lucky too because Bobby is just decent enough to do it. Luke can see him weigh it out. Usually, he likes watching the cogs turn in Bobby's head but not when that happens. Luke can see him determine the pros and cons. If I go with them, I get to keep doing what I want. That's the reasoning. Luke always feels a pang of guilt then, sharp and sudden like biting into a lemon. Because he knows what that translates to. If I suffer at this family dinner, I keep getting to play in Sunset Curve. Luke brought him into the band. He would never, in a thousand years, uninvite Bobby from the band. But Luke does wish everyday it was better for him. The lead singer likes to think that him and the others make it better for Bobs, a little bit at least. That's how Luke does some justifying balancing himself. He wonders if Bobby ever watches him think. A guy can dream.  
Luke thinks Reggie's parents were maybe in love, in a way, at some point. What he means is, passion is a sort of love, or at least an aspect of it that's pretty important and the Peters have that. Had that. Only now it's all twisted up and turned to anger. Just in time for their son to come into the world. Reggie was born unloved. Luke hates his own head for giving him the notion, but he thinks that probably, Reggie's parents never meant to have him. It was an accident and they just went along with it. That's the only possible thing Luke can come up with for why the couple from hell has so much resentment built up for someone as sweet tempered as Reggie. Luke admires him a lot. There's not anyone else out there that can match Luke's enthusiasm and energy, save Reg. Luke knows he exhausts Alex and Bobby. Not in a bad way, but he's a hyperactive lightning strike and Reggie is a beam of sun, just as fast and power packed. The simple fact that Reggie turned out to be… Well, himself when he was raised by intoxicated assholes who wouldn't know gentleness if it stared them in the face, which it did by the way, every time their beautiful son looked at them hoping for a different result, was simply astounding. Luke tries valiantly not to think about how truly gorgeous he finds Reggie too often. It can only ruin things.  
Luke can't bring it up to those two boys because how selfish is it to complain about the one thing that went wrong? Luke's parents don't support him, but they love him. Bobby was never loved, and never looked for it either. Luke had to drag him into their little found family, kicking and screaming. Not literally of course. Bobby's too cool for that. Reggie's the same way, except he's been seeking out love ever since he learned to walk. Luke thanks his lucky stars that he and Alex are who Reg happened to walk into. Luke isn't too sour about it. Because he still believes he can change his parent's minds. Once they make it big, mom and dad will finally see his dream was worth chasing. So he doesn't complain about it.  
He attempts not to ever. But sometimes things happen that are out of your hands. Like the thing with Alex. Luke gets to the garage early a lot, it’s pretty routine, especially with his new rule of “be barely at home so you don’t lose what semblance of a relationship you have with mom”. Yeah, it needs a better title, but Luke also needs a better plan so he figures it evens out. Didn’t the math teacher say something about two negatives making a positive? It’s that kind of logic Luke is searching for when it comes to his parents. He’s holding out hope, but sometimes things get too close. He hadn’t slept the night before, the lyrics to Now or Never keeping him awake. It’s the song they’ll perform at the Orpheum someday, Luke knows it, but he really wishes his brain would give it a rest. Luke does a lot of wishing lately. On days like that one, his singular mantra on the way there was: please don't let the others be there please don't let the others be there please- Blessedly, no one seemed to be in the garage. If Bobby was already home, he was in his room, sleeping or pouring over whatever needed to be done. Luke scowls at the thought. Bobby’s no good parents bring Luke to a boil quicker than anything. He’d fight them if he thought it’d do any good, but honestly it wouldn’t. Same with any of the boys’ parents. Luke was slowly learning not to act on every single impulse he experienced. Reg was probably doing homework at the beach or the corner booth at the pizza place. Luke was fond that Reggie trusted them enough to show the band his favorite places. He was kind of honored to be brought into confidence like that. Luke was always being told he’s too loud, too much, that his big mouth will get him in trouble, and, new flash, it already does. A lot of the time. Thank god he has Alex to keep him in check or else someone might really put him through a wall. And that’s when the door opens. Alex was the one unpredictable variable when it came to early practice panic hours with Luke. The drummer understood the need to get away, and more than just get away, to lose yourself in something, anything else.  
Alex walks in on Luke leg bouncing and writing in his lyric notebook like nothing’s wrong. It’s a good act, it’s normal almost. Except Alex is a very emotional person, and the tear tracks on Luke’s face are still drying. He’d have to blind not to see his best friend in pain. ‘Lex is always really gentle with Luke when he’s losing his mind, walking up to him with just enough noise so Luke knows he’s being approached. It used to bother him that Alex treated him like a wounded animal during these times, until Luke realized that’s exactly what he is. Eventually Alex reaches him and crouches at his side. His hands hover over Luke, unsure if physical touch is okay or not. Luke tackles him. He just needs something real to hold onto. Alex lets him, catches him in solid arms and rubs circles on his back while Luke cries. He feels like a child, it’s not that big of a deal, but he thought he’d always have his mom and soon he won’t even have a home to go back to. When the sobs subside, Alex pulls back to look at Luke.  
“Do you wanna talk about it?” Alex winces at how lame that sounds. He knows it’s probably about Emily. It frustrates Alex that she can't get over herself enough to see how badly she’s hurting Luke.  
“Yeah,” Luke croakes, and god, Alex wants him to never sound like that ever again. He wants Luke’s parents to never make the guitarist sound like that again. “I think I’ll leave tonight.” It shouldn’t be shocking to hear, but Alex is surprised anyway. Luke is a man of action, but taking this step is wrecking him. Alex almost tells him not to do it, but things would only get worse if he stayed. So instead, he just hugs Luke again, tighter. Alex never makes Luke feel bad about talking, and it’s not that Bobby and Reg do, it’s just that they need a reminder of how shitty parents can be like they need the plague, which is to say, they don’t need it at all. Alex doesn’t need it either, but if Luke’s going to burden someone, he’s glad Alex is strong enough to hold him up.  
Luke doesn’t end up leaving that night, but he does end up leaving. Luke tries one more time to get his mom to understand and when she won’t, he grabs his bags and bike and books it. He has no plan, except to peddle. Luke could end up anywhere, but his feet and subconscious know what to do and he arrives outside the garage a short while later. Alex or Red could be crashing there, but he’s too tired to be worried about appearing put together. They can either love his chaos or not, he doesn’t care. Luke just lost one family, and he’s too emotionally drained to care about losing another. He creeps into the garage. To Luke’s surprise, Bobby is in there, the couch already pulled out and the tiny tv set on. He glances at Luke as he enters, and Luke doesn’t expect much, not with Bobby, because he can’t ask that of him. Everyone thinks Bobby is so apathetic, but really he just has too much riding on him. Luke doesn’t want to bother him, and the only move Bobby makes is to slide over and make room. In that moment, Luke has never been more grateful for Bobby’s quiet support. He parks his ass right next to Bobby, and as soon as he starts to remember: oh yeah personal space is a thing for most people, Bobby tugs him closer. Luke absolutely does not cry in Bobby’s arms while Party of Five plays in the background. He does sleep pressed up completely against the other boy’s side, and it’s the first time in a good while his thoughts, good or bad or otherwise, don’t keep him awake.  
Bobby doesn’t talk about it and Luke doesn’t bring it up. Things are good again and Luke starts moving on. He doesn’t have the guys play Unsaid Emily, there’s no reason to practice it when Luke is still raw. He knows when he can’t handle things, for the most part. Luke can handle being in love with his best friends. He really can. After that night with Bobby, it really sunk in. But friendship is friendship and Luke has already been enough of a wrecking ball for one lifetime. He dutifully ignores how Alex grins after a good set. Luke distinctly does not want to cuddle with Bobby again. So what if he hasn’t slept since then? He’s fine. Completely fine. Luke is not okay. It’s Reggie that’s his undoing and honestly, there wouldn’t have been a better way for it to happen. Reggie understands more than he lets on, and he may very well be the most emotionally mature out of all of them. Luke and he share the garage, playing house and learning to live around and with each other. It’s inevitable that something might happen.  
Luke was awake at three in the morning and he knew for a fact that Reg was too. He knew this, because they were playing CandyLand on a beat up board Reggie had found and then begged him to play. When the bassiest asks you to do something, you cave. Luke didn’t even try to fight it. The longer the game went on though, the more antsy Luke got. He felt like something was starting, a new beginning or something. Tonight was the night. Luke leapt to his feet.  
“We have to play the Orpheum.” Reggie got up too, apprehensive.  
“Tonight?!” His jaw dropped. Luke rolled his eyes.  
“No man,” Luke considered this and shook his head. “No not tonight, but soon. We have to play soon.” He was insistent. Like always, Reggie was down to go with him. They spent all night making calls, and hitting up clubs, trying to cash in on connections and make some where there weren’t before. It was exhausting and exhilarating. Eventually the two boys stumbled back into the garage, where CandyLand pieces were scattered and long forgotten. Sleep deprived and happy, Luke fell onto the pull out couch with Reggie.  
“Can I just sleep with you tonight?” Luke whispers, suddenly sober. Reggie snorts.  
“What sleep dude?” He’s grinning. When he notices how invested in the answer Luke is, he gets more serious. “Yeah of course. I sleep better when you’re around.” Reggie isn’t joking. Luke is too tired to read into it.  
“Hey Reg?” Luke begins again, quiet and not like himself.  
“I thought we were sleeping?” Reggie elbows him a little. Luke laughs softly. He can’t help but brighten up with Reggie around.  
“You and I both know we rarely do.”  
“True.” Reggie nods in agreement, his chin ending up resting on top of Luke’s brown mop of hair.  
“Thank you, for tonight and…” Luke trails off, steals his frayed nerves and continues. “And for everything Reg. You’re amazing.” It’s not a confession, but it’s the closest thing Luke can give away right now. “I think I needed to do this.” There’s so much Luke doesn’t say, can’t say, that should come after that. I needed to do this so I wouldn’t lose my mind. I needed to do this so I could get my brain to stop going a thousand miles a minute. I needed to do this so if I did get any sleep, I wouldn’t dream so vividly that when I wake up, I’m more tired than when I went to bed. I needed to do this because the Orpheum has to happen. Because we need to make it. Yeah, there’s a lot unsaid. But for some reason Luke believes Reggie hears him anyway.  
"Sweet dreams Sweetheart." Reggie whispers it above Luke's head, and it feels so unreal that Luke nearly dismisses it as wishful thinking, but instead he tucks it away in his heart. Just in case he never gets to hear it again. A week later, Sunset Curve has a sound check at the Orpheum and Luke let’s himself revel in it. He had not slept the night before, roaming around the city and breathing it in. The thunder of someday someday someday roaring in his ears. Someday was today. Tonight, everything would change. Luke was selfish with his dream, but maybe mom would understand now. Maybe Mom would finally know that Luke’s dream was worth chasing. That he was worth something. Luke came back the next morning to Bobby making breakfast and Reggie smiling weird. It was going to be a perfect day. He left them alone, not wanting to break the spell that had been cast on their little garage. It was gradually becoming a home. Luke was on cloud nine. The four of them meet up later, and play their hearts out. It doesn’t matter that it’s just the pregame warm up. It doesn’t matter that Alex’s parents don’t accept him. That Reggie never got the love he deserves. That Bobby had to grow up too fast. That Luke lost everything. Because this night right here, it can get that back. Afterwards, they engage in their usual routine of teasing and encouraging, and Bobby makes a beeline for a girl. Even that can’t sting enough to dampen Luke’s mood. He’s flying too high.  
Wake up, say good morning to  
That sleepy person lying next to you  
If there’s no one there  
Then there’s no one there  
But at least, the war is over  
Luke crashes just as hard. Twenty five years later, the girl from the Orpheum’s daughter, Julie, brings them back. Looking around at Alex, Reggie and Bobby, Luke is determined not to waste his second chance.  
When Willie skates into their life, Luke decides that being a little selfish is a good thing, if it means he gets all four of his boys.


	3. I Don't Wanna Fall Asleep, I Don't Wanna Pass Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major trigger warning! Please heed it!! I describe a panic attack pretty in detail. Alex's parents are awful. There are slurs. It's not great! I based this heavily off my own experience so if I get something wrong, please let me know! Be gentle with yourself

I Don't Wanna Fall Asleep, I Don't Wanna Pass Away - Powfu and Beabadoobee "Coffee for Your Head" (Alex)

Sleep was not Alex's friend. It made sense, he didn't have many. Usually he didn't mind. Having a social life sounded exhausting, but this was different. Some scientists had confirmed that yes, you do require sleep to live. Alex was still fairly certain he wanted to live. On some days, it was debatable, but most times he couldn't bear the thought of leaving Sunset Curve behind. Not just because he was the most responsible one, and someone needed to keep Luke, Reg and Bobby from an early grave. After Reggie came to his house with three broken ribs, after he watched Luke cry his eyes out behind the school, after he watched the light go out in Bobby's eyes, Alex was determined to stick around. At least long enough to help with some of that shit. So he needed sleep, much to his annoyance.  
Alex does his damndest to, but his brain won't shut off. The only time it leaves Alex alone is when he's playing the drums, a blessed and welcome reprieve from the norm of Alex's life. Except recently, his mind has been trying to master the art of splitting in two, one half focused on the task at hand, that being the drums, and the other half pining like a lovesick dog for his bandmates. It makes Alex physically ill, that he's not only fulfilling every stereotype of a gay guy having a crush on his straight friend, but he's even taking it a step farther by having a crush on all of his best friends. He's also a little disappointed. Alex honestly thought he'd gotten past this freshman year, before he'd even come out to the three boys, when he thought he had a crush on Luke. He dismissed it quickly. Everyone has a crush on Luke. It's not unique, and he forces himself to forget about it.  
Alex thinks he's done a good job, until he makes the mistake of buying Reg that leather jacket for his birthday. The bassist looks hot and after Alex mentally punishes himself for thinking that about actual pure angel Reggie, he tries to reason through it. Tries to make it a purely physical thing. Maybe he just likes jackets like that. Except Alex still really really likes Reg, with or without the gift wrapped around his shoulders. He discovers quickly that the "leather jacket" thing is just a "in love with Reggie and his everything" thing. Alex is regrettably awkward, okay, even more awkward, around Reg once it hits him, to the point where the other boy actually confronts the blonde about it. Alex thought he was gonna die, but Reggie lets him lie, and they move on. Alex doesn't move on from Reggie though. Or Luke.  
Bobby took Alex by surprise. Sure Bobby's gorgeous, but Alex always thought he was too standoffish, too cool for Alex and Sunset Curve if Luke and Reggie weren't in the equation. It's a reasonable assumption. They never hang out without the other two. Alex is grateful for the distance anyway. Maybe Bobby will keep him sane. He's determined not to catch feelings for the rhythm guitarist. Except Alex can't hide from it well enough. He can't escape it. Apparently it's inevitable that he'll fall for Bobby. It happens at school.  
Alex can't handle it. He's been telling himself all day: it's just a test. He's been telling himself all day: it's not that bad. It's just a bad day, but it's a thousand things crashing in at once kind of bad day. When the last bell rings, it sinks in on Alex that he has to go home. Home to his father who talks about how fags should burn. Home to his mother who shakes her head and turns away, saying things like: "those homosexuals just aren't made correctly." And she might be right. Maybe there is something wrong with Alex. Normal people don't fall in love with their best friends and certainly not more than one. Alex is a freak, just like they preach at church. The room closes in. There's something squeezing his chest. Alex can't go home and practice isn't happening yet, so he goes to the boys restroom. No one questions his hurried steps towards the bathroom. Luke didn't even show up today, and Reggie already left, the nurse gave him early release after inspecting some damage he got from "falling down some steps". She had said it was hard enough for Reg to focus without having to try and get comfortable covered in bruises. Alex had almost cried when he went home, but Reggie had begged him not to, and reassured the blonde that he'd see him at practice. Alex had told him he'd be fine. He'd see Reggie later. It would be okay. Alex would make it work.  
But now he can't. Not while he struggles for breath pressed into the corner of a stall. It should be disgusting. It kind of is. Alex can't focus enough to be repulsed by anything but himself. The only thing he can register with any clarity is his ragged gasps, and even that sounds tinny and far away. He thinks: maybe I'm dying. The doctors were wrong. How can anxiety hurt this much? Alex thinks this could actually kill him, or maybe he'll just pass out, that'd be good too, but a knock interrupts his panicked thoughts. Vaguely, Alex hears his name.  
"Alex?" It's Bobby. Only he sounds like that, tired but trying to hide it, cool and casual but desperate to know what's going on. Alex understands vaguely that he's scaring Bobby, which is not his intention. He came in here to specifically not do that. Never in a million years did he think Bobby would come looking for him. "Alex, man, I figured maybe we could walk to the garage together. You uh, you wanna let me in?" Bobby sounds unsure. Alex wants to be left alone, but more than that, he wants Bobby to stop sounding like that. It doesn't suit him, or his persona. Alex uses the bare minimum of movement to unlock the stall and quickly huddles back into his position in the corner. "Heyyy 'Lex," Bobby still sounds funny, especially when he's trying to be gentle. Alex isn't made of glass, but he still appreciates the effort. "It's me, Bobby. But you uh. You probably already know that." He swallows audioably. Alex must look pretty bad. "I need you to breathe with me Lexi," Bobby must be really worried. He rarely uses the nicknames Reggie and Luke gave Alex, but he's using them now. "Just like you showed us before yeah? You were a really good teacher." Bobby smiles shakily. Alex's face twists. He's trying to smile back, probably. He remembers that day. Alex had held it together for a while, but his parents saw him that time. He had anticipated the shoe to drop, a lecture maybe, but instead they had just quietly taken him to the doctor and brought him home. A very clear message of: deal with it yourself. Only he couldn't and now Bobby was here. Alex starts breathing with him. Fuck, I think I love him too. Alex thinks deliriously. Time isn't real. Somewhere along the infinite line, Bobby ends up sitting next to him on the dingy boys bathroom floor. "We're gonna make it." Alex has no idea why Bobby says it, but it means everything.  
Alex's crush on Luke comes back in full force and color vision shortly after that afternoon with Bobby. This time he can't deny it's more than that. It's love. He's in love with Luke and this time he can't dismiss it with: well, everyone's in love with Luke. Because that might be true, but Alex really hopes it isn't. He wouldn't stand a chance. And Alex really wants a chance. He keeps it to himself, and tries not to look completely head over heels for Luke. It gets really hard in moments like this. Alex has been trying to limit his one on one time with the boys, so it doesn't get worse, but it can be unavoidable. He doesn't want his own ruined brain to destroy his relationship with Sunset Curve. Alex can be skittish and standoffish when he's anxious, which is always, but even more so lately, and it's damaging. When Luke asks him to walk around with him, Alex doesn't say no.  
They end up at the playground by the beach, on swings. Alex thinks it's weird, but it's hard to stay focused on feeling out of place when Luke is staring intently at the sun going down over the ocean. Alex watches him watch the light reflected on the water. He tells himself to stop, but doesn't. Alex indulges in quiet moments.  
"Do you ever think you've been in love?" Luke doesn't turn his gaze to Alex, but he's invested in the answer, the drummer can tell.  
"Maybe." Alex shrugs, it isn't a lie, it isn't the whole truth. Alex can't be honest. Luke nods, like this is an acceptable answer and not an incredibly lame avoidance. The lead guitarist is uncharacteristically quiet. He usually only gets like that when he's composing.  
"I have an idea for a song." Luke says suddenly. Alex smiles. Things are normal again. He stands up from the swing and offers his hand to Luke instinctively. This is a situation Alex knows how to navigate, and that he enjoys. Being a spectator to the genius and creativity that is Luke songwriting is a privilege.  
"Then let's go write one." Alex smiles and Luke grins back. I'm so gone for this boy. Alex thinks. They go to the studio and that night Luke writes "Crooked Teeth". Alex knows it's about Reggie and makes him happy. And a little sad. It makes him wonder if Luke will ever write him a song.  
The weeks pass peacefully for a short time after that. Alex plays drums, goes to school, eats pizza and laughs with Reg, dances around the garage with Luke to music that is way too loud, chills out with Bobby, and life goes on. But bliss can't last forever. Alex was never sure if he would have the courage to come out on his own, but that choice is taken out of his hands when his parents go through his things. Alex's heart stops, or at the very least, drops into his stomach. He had bought it on impulse, a guys magazine for guys. Nothing terribly depraved, is how Alex had justified it. A few pictures of men without shirts that he enjoyed when he needed to, but mostly he liked that there were other people like him out there. His absolute favorite part was an article, yes an article, about a queer punk band called Pansy Division. It meant that Alex's preferences wouldn't ruin the other boys' dream of becoming legendary musicians. He had found solace in it, and now it would be what crashed his life in around his ears.  
It was the first and only time his father ever hit him.  
After that, he just falls in line with Alex's mother and dutifully ignores the existence of his fairy son.  
Alex hadn't known that then though. He had run out with nothing, no clothes, no toothbrush, nothing. Alex runs. He doesn't stop until he hits the door of the garage. Literally hits it. His eyes are too blurry from tears to see it properly. Alex hates that he makes so much noise, and he also hates how much his nose hurts. Thank god it doesn't seem like the thud woke up Bobby. The rhythm guitarist has enough shit to deal with, without cleaning up Alex's messes. Plus, Alex is grateful to be able to collapse on the cement alone. He thinks he's sobbing. Or screaming. Alex should try and be more quiet. What the hell is wrong with him. He doesn't even consider that Reggie might be staying over.  
Not until Reggie is right next to him.  
"Alex, I'm here." He's whispering. Alex remembers that it's night. "Alex, you're not there anymore." Alex wonders dimly how Reg knows what to say. Realizes just as quickly that it's because that's what Reggie needs to hear too, when he runs from his parents. "Let me know when I can hug you baby doll." Reggie's soft, casual endearment is what snaps Alex back to the present. He can't let Reg say things like that, not when the bassist doesn't know what Alex is.  
"I'm gay!" Alex practically shouts it in Reggie's face. Reggie immediately stills. Alex wishes he could take it back. He's ruined things. Reggie doesn't want to be around him anymore. Alex closed his eyes. He can't watch one more person run away from him. But the fleeing movement never comes. Reggie's body weight stays solid at Alex's side.  
"Is that what happened?" His voice is deadly quiet, the way it gets when Reg is truly angry. Reggie touches his jean clad knee first, to let Alex know what's coming. He takes Alex's face in both hands and turns it to him. Alex opens his eyes and meets his gaze, emerald on emerald. "Is that why he hit you?" Reggie's expression is a map of carefully controlled rage.  
"Yeah," Alex starts, ready to explain that he should have hid it better, how he really brought it on himself. But Reggie's expression changes. Something dawns on his face.  
"Why did you tell me?" Alex looks away, but Reggie gently turns his head back to him. "Alex, baby doll, why did you tell me that you're gay?"  
"Stop calling me that. You don't… it doesn't bother you?" Alex's panic turned relief has know settled into plain confusion.  
"Does it bother you?" Reggie counters.  
"What, no that's not the point,"  
"It is. I'm sorry, Lexi, it absolutely is the only thing that matters. If I'm making you uncomfortable, I'll stop." Alex is too gobsmacked to formulate a response. "But, I think you and I could both use some comfort. And we're best friends right?"  
"Yeah. Yeah, we are." Alex says, on autopilot. He's holding onto Reggie now, fingers curled in his soft red flannel. Alex thinks absently: it's cute he sleeps in that.  
"Then let's go home baby doll." Alex can't let himself get used to that. But for tonight, he'll listen to Reg. He goes with him to the pullout couch. For tonight, sleep becomes Alex's friend, all because of Reggie. Alex is in way over his head already.  
Then the soundcheck before the Orpheum happens. Alex gets to play with the boys he loves, and he wants it to just be that. Forever.  
I don't wanna fall asleep  
I don't wanna pass away  
I been thinking of the future cause I'll never see those days  
And the hot dogs happen too. Alex gets forever. Just twenty five years later, and as a ghost. Even though he might have all the time in the world, Alex doesn't want to waste. He does his nervous pace thing with Reg, Bobby and Luke in the studio, Julie and the Phantoms studio now, because he can't mess this up, but the words get stuck and he ends up poofing away.  
That's when Willie runs him over and Alex swears to god even though his heart doesn't beat anymore, it stops when the skater boy takes his helmet off. Alex's brain unhelpfully supplies him with the thought: add him to the list. Alex does. This time around, it's going to work out. Alex stamps down his anxiety and plunges head first into his new "life".


	4. Sweet Dreams are Made of This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for mind control and Willie's self deprecating thoughts. Like all the other chapters, it ends well. I just want the reader to be aware. Be gentle with yourself!

Sweet Dreams Are Made of This - Eurythmics (Willie)

Willie couldn't remember sleep. That wasn't necessarily unique, there was a lot he couldn't recall. Like the smell of his grandpa's stew. Like how it felt to have his nana's arms around him. Like the feeling of dirt under his fingernails when he worked with both grandparents in their garden. They had brought him in and cared for him, and now Willie could barely conjure up an image of their kind, wrinkled faces. He'd like to be able to blame it on Caleb Covington, the ghost who now owns his soul. Willie was newly dead and stupid, he sometimes wonders if he's gotten any smarter since then, when Covington approached him. Willie was alone and lost. He let it happen to himself, it's his fault really, but he still wishes he could have refused Covington. Now he'll never get out. Never is a long time, and it all runs together.  
When Willie runs into, runs over, but that's besides the point, Alex, he remembers very suddenly what it's like to dream. The boy in front of him is a vision, so vibrant that Willie thought he was a lifer. Willie is getting ahead of himself, words stumbling out before he can stop them, everything feels too surreal for him to get a firm grasp on any coherent thought. Willie realizes quickly this guy has no idea what to do with being dead. He offers his services up immediately, jumping at the chance to spend more time with the blonde. Willie tries to subtly assess if this is going to be a strictly friendship friendship or if it could be more.  
“So, what are you doing in Hollywood man?” He jerks his head to indicate the street actress playing Marylin Monroe. “Picture with that uh, Marilyn girl.” Willie even wiggles his brows a little, to make it seem like he’s less invested in the answer then he is. Willie also internally hits himself. God, forget about being subtle. What an obvious way to ask: do you like boys? Luckily, Alex is completely oblivious. Willie finds it kind of sweet that, out of all the stereotypes blondes have, this newbie is a step slow. It reminds him of that modern joke about the one brain cell, which holds even more true when Alex introduces him to the others from his old band. Willie likes to think it was his hair flip that had Alex short circuiting, but really, there’s no reason for someone like Alex to give someone like Willie a second thought.  
Meeting Alex doesn’t just remind Willie of what it was like to let his imagination run wild while unconscious, it also serves to put the skater boy back in his place. He should stay far, far away from the drummer, but then he finds Willie at the park, with Reggie, Bobby and Luke in tow. Willie’s first thought is: Wow, so they’re all breathtaking. He’s kind of shocked by what different types of beauty the bandmates represent. Luke is all energy, glowing and in constant motion. Willie can’t begin to picture the dude playing guitar. It’d be too much. Alex is anxious, sure, but he’s also careful, and Willie would bet anything that when he lets go while playing the drums, like he did at the museum, and the tension ebbs away, all that’s left is joy. It’d be a transformative experience to watch Alex play. Bobby is stoic, but even Willie isn’t stupid enough to believe that’s all there is to the other ghost. Willie desperately wants to discover what else there is. Reggie is the sun, warm and powerful, and Willie wants to curl up in his light. It’s impossible not to get caught up in… In them. His already weak resolve to avoid them crumbles in seconds. The boys tell him their story, how a lifer stole their legacy, and it makes Willie sick. His nana had always taught the importance of storytelling, to keep those who passed alive in the community. It’s like their former buddy killed them again. In his desire for justice, Willie agrees to take them to the Hollywood Ghost Club.  
He knows it’s a mistake. Willie’s whole afterlife has been a mistake, but as he paces the tiny hall at the bottom of the stairwell to Caleb’s dressing room, he knows this will be something he can’t take back. Then Caleb descends and Willie is trying to get out of it. They don’t need to be here, is essentially what he says. Caleb dismisses Willie’s words with a wave of his hand. It’ll be fine, William. No need to worry, William. Stop acting stupid, William. Caleb doesn’t actually speak any of that outloud, but it’s like those thoughts have been spoken directly into his brain, and the more he tries to think around them, the louder they get, until Willie’s head is screaming and the only thing that makes it stop is the big band music Caleb plays. When the boys rush out with purple curses embedded in their wrists, all of Willie’s previous concerns come crashing in, drowning out the 20s swing. He rushes over to where the boys were, but time slows and they’ve already left by the time Willie is skidding to a stop in front of Caleb, who narrows his gaze, like Willie has offended him. The helmet wearing ghost probably has. He always fucks up in some way. Willie is just worthless. Those notions become deafening in Willie’s ears, so loud he doesn’t even hear Caleb’s reply. It distracts him so much, Willie doesn’t see the reptilian smirk that slides onto Caleb’s face as he watches his magic work on the younger ghost.  
Eventually, Willie snaps out of it. He’s not sure what’s wrong with him. Maybe it’s a byproduct of not having a soul anymore. Maybe it’s why he loses time. Maybe it’s something completely different that Willie will never figure out. He knows he’s letting his nana down. She’d be able to resist Caleb. All she ever wanted was for Willie to know himself, and he can’t even do that. His only personality trait is his skateboard, and even that is dependent on Caleb. After he’s found checking on the boys at the garage, Willie starts walking. He led Caleb right to them, their home, and invaded their space. Now they really won’t be safe. And it’s his fault. Willie can’t take it back, and he isn’t powerful enough to change it, so he does the only thing he can. He lets them go. Electrifying Luke, caring, gentle Alex, aloof Bobby sunshine Reggie, he lets them all go, because in the end, Willie is just thinking of himself. He goes back and explains crossing over to the boys of Julie and the Phantoms, and he prays they can do it. That should be it. They should be free of Willie and all his disasters that follow. Except that’s not what happens.   
It’s still mostly Willie’s mistake. Poofing into the Orpheum could have been easily avoided. He’s addicted to Alex. Willie watches the pain he inflicted on the drummer play out in a jolt, right there next to him. It’s a special kind of torture, being so close and doing the absolute bear minimum to comfort him. Willie wants to do much more. He wants to gather Alex up in his arms, see if that pink hoodie is really as soft as it looks, and go far away from this place. Instead, he asks a question to distance himself. Willie told Alex that he cared already. That’s all he can do. That’s all he deserves. He refuses to drag Alex down with him.  
“I should have just skated away.” Willie tells him ruefully. Alex could let it slide as a joke. He doesn’t.  
“I would have still followed you.”   
Later, when Alex comes back and hugs Willie like he’s trying to squeeze all of Willie’s broken pieces back together, Willie neglects to tell him that those words in the Orpheum mean everything. It makes the afterlife worth living again.  
It's over. The boys really have washed their hands of him. Good riddance. Willie shouldn't be around them. He doesn't deserve it. They know what their business is, and there's no need for Willie anymore. Things go back to usual for a day and a half. Caleb gives him back his skateboard. Willie can't really remember why he had it in the first place, but he's grateful Caleb will do him the favor of giving it back. Willie starts skating and never wants to stop. Maybe that will help this unnamed hollow feeling in his chest. His melancholy peace doesn't last long. Bobby interrupts it.  
The boy is painted like a silhouette against the backdrop of the setting sun, with his dark hair and dark clothing ensemble, his pale skin being washed out in furious light. Willie stumbles off his board, sure he must be seeing things.  
"Hey man," Bobby greets him, all casual.  
"Hey dude," Willie replies, all casual. None of it is though. It's very formal, and certainly charged. Just like that, Bobby turns and starts walking towards a park bench. Willie's brain is on loading for too long because Bobby stops and turns on his boot sharply.  
"You coming or what?" Even inviting Willie over, his posture is haughty, chin tilted up and expression indignant. Somehow, it's completely different then Caleb Covington. Probably because Willie knows when he sits next to Bobby, they'll have an actual conversation. Or maybe because he knows that underneath the air Bobby's made for himself, there's more. You could chip away at Caleb for hundreds of years and only get more malice. "Listen, I need you." Willie chokes. Bobby did not just say that. To his credit, the rhythm guitarist keeps his composure, and the only tell that he's realized how his last sentence sounds is how red his ears get. Willie thinks: cute. And then Bobby is talking more. "It's an ex of mine that stole our songs. It's my fault you know?" Willie jumps to his defense.  
"Bobby, no-" Bobby cuts him off with a raised hand.  
"I came to you because you know what it's like to fuck up in front of the people you," Bobby stumbles over the next word. "Care for." He finishes carefully. Willie's mouth drops in shock. "I know it's harsh but,"  
"No, I'm glad," They speak in unison. It's nowhere near actually funny, but both boys laugh. "What I was going to say," Willie continues. "Is that I'm glad we match Bobs. Makes me feel better." He admits softly. Suddenly Willie's thumb ring is very interesting. He thinks he might have ruined the moment with the nickname, but Bobby just reaches over and covers Willie's fingers where he's spinning his favorite piece of jewelry.  
"We match." Bobby echoes. "Yeah, can't all be perfect right?" It's a joke, but Willie can see the hurt there. How can he not know he's perfect too? Luckily Willie's brain to mouth filter clicks on to keep that thought inside.  
"We do our best. It's enough." Willie says instead. It must be the right thing too cause Bobby looks up from where he's still messing with Willie's ring and smiles, briefly.  
"Yeah. Yeah it is. Speaking of this we can do…" The next morning, Willie helps get them into the Orpheum. He tries not to think too much about Bobby's hand over his as he skates away.  
That should be the end of it. Willie will never see the boys again. They're at peace and that's all that matters. If Willie goes back to his room at the club and cries, that's his problem. Caleb lets him have this, the pain of losing them. It's better that way. William proved much more of a nuisance during the whole thing, and if Caleb makes him forget, the dimwitted skater boy could fall for the band all over again. Caleb hates being put back at square one. He'll let William mourn.   
"Yo Willie!" Willie doesn't slow down, just speeds up, like he can out ride the haunting voice of Luke. It's stupidly ironic that a ghost can be haunted. "I know you hear me man! What gives?" Willie's fed up. Maybe if he yells at it, the hallucination will leave him alone. He kicks his board up and whirls. "Wow, your hair looks really good when you spin." Luke says. Willie's eyes narrow. Luke's mouth snaps shut. "I mean, pretend I said something normal?" Luke runs the back of his neck sheepishly. There's no way Luke is here. Or talking to him. Wasn't Luke the one who distrusted Willie the most? And he was right. Why would he be here? "When you didn't come around, I figured you didn't know right? Cause why would Caleb tell you, that'd be ridiculous," Luke is rambling and laughing nervously. "Alex thinks you're trapped in a basement somewhere and honestly Reg and I started figuring the same thing until Bobby said-"   
"Wait." Willie interrupts. He can't breathe. "Wait. So you." Willie laughs, borderline hysterical. "You're all back? And not flickering?" He's incredulous.  
"Yeah man, of course," Luke laughs too. "That's what I came to tell you! It's time to come home!" Home. This isn't happening. "Hey man, why are you crying?" Luke "actual puppy dog" Patterson doesn't understand that he's just changed Willie's undead life for literally eternity. Willie has no words, so he just tackles Luke. To make sure he's real, as real as ghosts can be, and to let Luke know what he can't convey through words. Willie tries to be a man of action, after all. They end up on the grass, laughing.   
After that, things change.  
"Welcome home Wills!"   
"Reg, you say that every time I get back to the garage." The typical monotonous greeting makes Willie's day a little better. He lives here now, with the guys, which is heaven and hell, but he's not completely free of Caleb, and it hurts so much sometimes. He doesn't want to bring Reggie down though. So he replies with humor, a little sharp, but it seems okay. Only before he can climb the stairs to his space, Reg catches his wrist.  
"Yeah, I do. You know why?" Willie rolls his eyes, waiting for Reggie to get on with it. But the bassist just continues staring at him expectantly. He wants Willie to answer.  
"Why, Reg?" Willie says, and the crack in his voice betrays his exhaustion.  
"Because I need you to know." Reggie meets Willie's chocolate gaze. "I need you to know you belong here, Precious." Here is where he breaks down. Reggie is looking at him like he's worth something. Like Willie isn't useless. He called me Precious, Willie thinks. It could be platonic, and he's too sick of his own thoughts to analyze it. All he needs to do is believe him, and trusting Reg is not a challenge. Willie lets himself fall into the other ghosts arms, hugs Reggie the way Alex hugged Willie so long ago. He allows Reg to lead him back to the couch, settles there with him. Willie cries until Reggie's had enough and gently shushed him. "We're okay Willie. I think we just need some rest yeah?" Willie nods against Reggie's chest, and the bassist threads his long fingers into Willie's hair, just resting there, reassuring.  
Sweet dreams are made of this  
Everybody's looking for something  
Who am I to disagree  
Thanks to Reggie, Willie remembers what it's like to sleep. When he wakes, life still feels like a dream. Willie is determined never to let it go.


	5. You Go Sleep With the Fishes, There's No Room For You Here - Blame "Bastille" (Reggie)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I was slow to finish this! Take care of yourselves while reading.

You Go Sleep With the Fishes, There's No Room for You Here - Bastille "Blame" (Reggie)

Sleep was safety for Reggie. It means everything turns off, lights out, and his brain is finally quiet. The world gets shut down too. His parents don't bother him when he's asleep. Sure, waking up to a screaming match every day sucks, but those blissful moments leading up to that are worth it. Sleep is a rare slice of peace in Reggie's chaos. He wants to be able to give that to everyone he cares about.  
Bobby thinks no one can see it, but Reggie and the guys notice. The bruise dark circles under Bobby's haunted eyes tell Reg all he needs to know about the other boy's hours of snooze ville, which is to say, it was painfully clear Bobby wasn't getting next to any. Reggie's first instinct is to tackle the rhythm guitarist into bed and make him sleep, but that might seem to untoward. Instead, he just starts sleeping at the garage more, and hopes it'll happen naturally. Or Reggie will make it happen.  
It's selfish really. He just can't take seeing Bobby in pain. Reggie is weak like that. The last practice before the Orpheum show goes well, Luke is all energy and when he and Reggie share the mic, the bassist has to remind himself that no, you aren't together so you can't pull him in for a kiss. Even though that is what you do with the things you love. Being in this band has taught Reggie remarkable Impulse control. He wants to run his fingers through Alex's hair, sweat and all, wonders if Alex would let himself lean into the touch or if his anxiety would keep him stiff. Reggie would like to make Alex's brain turn off sometime. Again, not really a thought he can act on. Bobby is beautiful like always, falling easily into the song, but it's not quite right. Usually, he's like Alex, once he starts playing, the tension ebbs, but Bobby still looks exhausted. Reggie was already planning to stay over, mom and dad are in bad shape lately and Reggie is sick of the emergency room decor.  
Luke and Alex bounce, and Reggie must appear more intent then he feels, because Bobby starts an awkward conversation when he turns to Reggie.  
"So, you just gonna crash here tonight man?" If Reggie didn't already have a plan to focus on, his brain would be blaring rejection alarms. He doesn't want you here, you're a burden to Bobby and the others too, you deserve to be at home. Those thoughts still pop up, but Reggie silences them quickly. This is more important than his own feelings. Reggie is bad at talking anyway. He's a man of action. In three big steps, Reggie is across the garage and gathering Bobby into his arms. The simple action is enough to break Bobby's defenses down. Reggie hears a soft sob, and then his black shirt is being actively used as a tissue. He doesn't care. Crying is a good outlet, and he wants Bobby to have this, for longer than just one hug. He guides Bobby to "Luke's couch" and makes them comfortable. But apparently not too comfortable, because Bobby stands up just as quickly as Reggie had sat them down.  
"You know where the blankets are and stuff." It sounds lame, and Bobby knows it too, even winces a little when the words leave his mouth. The bassist grabs his arm when Bobby starts walking away, and yeah, that's a strange thing to do so he needs to explain it. Reggie needs to think of something, anything, to make Bobby understand this is a safe space.  
"I see you Bobby." It's a brash decision, and a weird thing to say, but sometimes that's what Reggie would need to hear. He can be that for Bobby right now. "Alex, Luke and I. We all see you." Reggie swallows, because this next part? It's basically a confession. But Reggie will risk it, to help Bobby. "You aren't just our rhythm guitarist and I need you to know that." Fuck, now both of them are crying. It's a good thing Luke isn't there. He cannot handle tears. "You're so much more, if you would just let yourself be." Alex has said it before, but Reggie needs Bobby to know that it's true. To his surprise, Bobby laughs. It's an awful sound, nothing like his real laughter, too wet and weighed down by things unsaid.  
"I'm not worth anything." That's unacceptable. Reggie isn't crying anymore. Now he wants to kill whoever taught Bobby that lie. Reggie can't do that, so instead he just starts talking again.  
"God Bobby, you're so good." Reggie smiles. It's meant to be reassuring. "You think I don't notice, but I do." Reggie's voice drops to a whisper. There's no one else there, but it's still intimate. This is too important. "You run your whole house. You come to school." As soon as he starts listing things, Bobby's head starts shaking, a very clear litany of no no no. Reggie doesn't stop though. Bobby needs to be pushed into affection and that's the simple truth. If he goes too far, of course Reggie will stop. But not now, and not like this. "You're the best rhythm guitarist Sunset Curve could ever have. You show up to every gig, even when it's as stupid as the time we played a book club." Reggie waits a beat, to see if Bobby will laugh, but he's not ready for that, and he stays quiet, so Reggie keeps going. "You let me and Alex stay here sometimes because you know if we go home, something could happen." Reggie knows he's playing dirty, but it gets Bobby to raise his head, and that's enough. He opens his mouth to say something, to defend that last statement of course, but Reggie beats him to the punch. "You don't need to do any of that Honey." The pet name just slips. Reggie will worry about it later, but it's worth the future overthinking to feel Bobby relax against him. "But you do. You're amazing." Bobby folds completely into Reggie, and they stay like that, all night. Reggie is able to give Bobby a little slice of peace, a good night's sleep, and he hopes it won't be the last time. He doesn't know that it will definitely be the last time he and Bobby are alive.  
Reggie has a harder time with self control when Julie brings them back. It should be the opposite really, he had limited days before, and now that he has eternity, Reggie feels the press of time closer. He can't focus when he and Luke share the mic anymore. Everything is suddenly too close and too passionate, and Reggie never wants it to end, but also taking that plunge is one he can never come back from, even if the others are willing to pretend to ignore it. Maybe it's just all the restless nights spent with Luke, playing candyland and writing music because they couldn't actually practice, catching up with him. Like pining squared. Back in the 90s, when Luke wrote Crooked Teeth, Reggie knew instantly it was about him. He was the only one out of Sunset Curve that had ever worn braces, afterall. It didn't take a genius to figure it out. Reggie knows Bobby and Alex recognize it too. It's only sweet, sometimes a little dumb, Luke who seems to think he has everyone fooled. Since then, Reggie had resolved to wait for Luke to come to him himself. You only write a love song for someone when you're trying to get them out of your system, or not ready to face them. But Reggie is tired of waiting.  
Julie said no practicing without her there, and though he and Luke had agreed: they always had each other! Julie seemed adamant about not playing. Except that rule really only matters when there are people around to hear them. The Molinas are staying at Tia Victoria's tonight, and Reggie knows that for a fact. Alex, Willie and Bobby are out, Reggie had half jokingly told the skater ghost to return his boys in one piece. Willie had replied: oh, I don't count as one of your boys? And then he had winked. Reggie was as flustered internally as Alex was externally, the blonde spluttering and pushing a cackling Willie and a smirking Bobby out the door. He and Luke were the only ones left in the studio, so when the guitarist turns to him and asks: "Wanna practice?" Reggie doesn't see anything wrong with it.  
Until their faces are less than a breath away from each other and Reggie's brain zooms in on Luke's lips. It's clumsy, Reggie's never kissed anyone, but then again, neither has Luke, not in a serious way.  
"I just got sick of teasing, sweetheart." Reggie grins at Luke, chest heaving. Luke just pulls him back in, a laugh of his own bubbling up. They fall asleep tangled together on the garage floor, Luke's hand in his.  
Things change strangely little. It's like with Bobby, way back then. Neither boy brings it up and Reggie starts to think Luke would rather forget it. Except Reggie can't not remember. He can't forget a lot of things. Like the night Alex literally crashed into the garage. That memory lives in Reggie's head for free, and it comes into even sharper focus in moments like this, when Reggie is feeling untethered, a beacon of built up restless energy, his brain hones in on emotionally charged events to try and remind him of reality. And that evening had been electric.  
It had been a bad day for Reggie. Actually a bad week, in a series of bad years, but Reggie tries not to let it hold him down. He had needed a glass of water the night before, leaving the safety of sleep, and venturing downstairs into danger. The cup had ended up shattered on the kitchen floor, and Reggie had ended up with bruised ribs instead of water. It hurt to move. Reggie went to school, but only stayed long enough to take a math test. He ditched the rest of the day in favor of nursing his wounds. Reggie resolved to stay at the Sunset Curve studio for more than one night this time. Bruised ribs can turn into broken ones real quick if you keep stepping into the place of violence. Reggie already knew that lesson all too well.  
It's not that late when he hears the thud. Reggie is balancing somewhere between sleep and waking, happily zoned out, until the sound snaps him very suddenly out of it. After reminding himself that he isn't at his house, Reggie gets up to investigate. As soon as the garage door is open, he hears the gasping. Alex comes quickly into view, the drummer on the sidewalk, chest heaving. Reggie's familiar with this, the blonde gave them all a crash course in dealing with his diagnosis, except as Reggie gets closer, he can see a dark bruise blooming on Alex's cheek. Reggie might throw up. Later though. First, he needs to make sure Alex can breath.  
"Alex I'm here." Reggie just wants to let him know that someone's there. Alex seems pretty out of it. "Alex, you're not there anymore." Reggie needs to be reminded of that when he gets like this. It can feel like that moment is stuck on loop. He needs to pull the other boy out of it. "Let me know when I can hug you baby doll." It's not a big deal, the endearment. Reggie has been associating the boys with soft words for a long time, he's just letting them slip more often.  
The next second, Alex is bolting up and shouting.  
"I'm gay!" It's not a response that makes any sense until Reggie remembers that bigots exist and Alex's parents must be some of them. He stills, absolutely quiet.  
"Is that what happened?" Reggie just wants a simple answer to a simple question, even though there's a sinking feeling in his chest. Alex looks away, all the intense, anxious energy suddenly drained. Reggie redirects him. "Is that why he hit you?" Because you're gay. Reggie doesn't say. People fall in love with who they fall for. It's not a choice. Like Reggie and how hard he crashed for all the boys. Not the plan, but Reggie accepted that about himself. Now Alex has to start all over, working through it.  
"Yeah," Alex looks ready to say more, but Reggie can't or won't hear it.  
"Why did you tell me?" Reggie hates that he can sense the response. Alex clearly doesn't want to give one either, ripping his gaze away again. Reggie redirects gently. This is too important. "Alex, baby doll, why did you tell me that you're gay?" Something Reggie says makes Alex look like he's been sucking on lemons.  
"Stop calling me that. You don't… it doesn't bother you?" Reggie thinks he's talking just about the nickname.  
"Does it bother you?" He could just as well be talking about the whole awful situation though. Alex considers it.  
"What, no that's not the point," He sounds confused and a little exasperated. Reggie finds it endearing, but he has to set the record straight. For lack of a better word.  
"It is. I'm sorry, Lexi, it absolutely is the only thing that matters. If I'm making you uncomfortable, I'll stop." Alex says nothing, but his pretty mouth is hanging open. Reggie takes charge. "But, I think you and I could both use some comfort." Alex needs to be led a little more. "And we're best friends right?" Alex blinks, not following, but at least his vocals have clicked back on.  
"Yeah. Yeah, we are." Alex's hands are knotted in Reggie's flannel. It's adorable. Reggie never wants him to let go.  
"Then let's go home baby doll." Reggie smiles at him, gently tugs him onto the pull out couch, and they get a slice of peace together.  
After both Orpheum shows, Reggie realizes he can't waste time anymore.  
You go sleep with the fishes  
There's no room for you here  
Reggie is determined to make room for his boys. Like his parents never did for him, Reggie has carved out a space for all of the Sunset Curve members, plus Willie. A week earlier, he had called the skater ghost Precious and watched the boy light up like a christmas tree. Reggie loves Christmas. He doesn't want to give it up, and that is the risk, but if he takes the plunge, he could have it all. And the others could too. Reggie is dumb sometimes, but he isn't blind. He sees the way Luke lights up when they share a mic. Reggie can hear it in Alex's voice when he calls him Reg. Reggie can feel it when Willie's touches linger just a little too long. Reggie can sense it in the shared silence Bobby and he slip into sometimes. That desire for more. Reggie isn't quick with the book stuff, but he may be the most emotionally mature one of the bunch. This needs to be out in the open. He calls an emergency boys in the band meeting, and that's where it all unfolds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if I should write a chapter about how the boys in the band meeting Reggie calls goes!


	6. Now I Know What I Believe Inside, Now It's My Time - Skillet "Awake and Alive" (the boys)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a comment saying that it'd be fun to read this! One comment is enough for me to write lol. Be gentle with yourselves!

Now I Know What I Believe Inside, Now It's My Time - Skillet "Awake and Alive" (The boys)

Reggie's hands haven't been this sweaty since he had to present his science fair project in front of the entire school in fifth grade. Turned out, he hadn't yaked and when he got onstage, Reggie realized: this is what I was born to do. Then in sixth grade, an estranged aunt buys him a bass and later that same semester, he meets Luke and Alex for the first time. Eighth grade they welcomed Bobby into the band. Now it's 2020 and Willie isn't in Julie and the Phantoms, but he's definitely a part of the family. That's why Reggie is suffering through the anticipation. To keep all of them together.   
Alex is picking up on his nerves, the blonde's leg bouncing has gotten three times worse in the last eight seconds, and both Bobby and Willie look like they want to reach over and still the hammering appendage. Luke is finishing a line in his notebook. That's why Reggie is waiting. Otherwise words would have already been tumbling from his mouth. Luke closed his lyric with a flourish.  
"Done!"  
"Thank god," Alex whispers, and Willie grins at him reassuringly. Louder, Alex says: "What's up Reg?" If it's a try for casual, it falls flat by a thousand miles, but the nickname makes Reggie relax marginally.   
"Some of us have known each other for a long time," He meets Luke's eyes, and then Bobby's, whose eyebrow is raised quizzically, a classic "where's your point, man?" Bobby expression, and then his gaze wonders back to Alex and Willie, sitting together. "And some of us have just become close," Willie laughs nervously. He's uncomfortable with the attention on him.  
"Are you dying again Reggie?" Willie jokes. "Because that's how this speech sounds." Alex's emerald eyes are wide looking at Reg, and the bassist is quick to explain to everyone.  
"No, no, I'm fine." Then he shakes his head. "No, I'm not fine, and I wanted to do this more elegantly but," Bobby mouths "elegantly" at Luke who smirks back. "But we all love each other and I think we should talk about it." The mood in the studio changes drastically and immediately. It's finally out there, and Reggie is relieved. Feeling bolder, he challenges: "I'm not wrong am I?" He's smiling, can't stop really. Bobby's mouth is dropped, but he's not denying it. Alex and Willie's hands are joined, white knuckled together. Reggie waits. He can do that kind of patience now.   
I'm awake!  
I'm alive!  
Now I know what I believe inside  
Now it's my time   
Luke is the one to break the quiet. After a full minute of processing, he jumps up.  
"Yeah!" Luke shakes his head, his floppy brown hair going everywhere. "I mean, no, I mean," He laughs, giddy. Luke hugs Reggie, tight. "I love you too man!" The ball of energy whirls towards Willie and Alex. "Both of you! Alex," He slides to his knees in front of the pair, grabs their hands and kisses Alex's. "I love you. Willie," A kiss to the skater ghost's hand. "I love you too." Luke stands again. "Bobby…" The boy in question blinks up and meets Luke's electric eyes. "I love you." It's a lot to take in less than a minute, and Bobby's reply seems to take ages, but eventually he reaches out and takes Luke's hand, studying the guitarist's rings.  
"I love you too." Bobby's voice is barely above a whisper. He looks around at the others, wonder written clearly on his face. "I love all of you."  
"Oh my god," Alex says, and bursts into tears. Immediately, four boys are at his side.  
"What is it, baby doll?" Reg asks. Alex's face is hidden in his chest, and, at first, all Alex does is shake his head. When he sits back, he fixes all of them with a still watery gaze. "I think I'm crying because I'm happy." Alex admits.   
"I'm happy too." Willie squeezes his hand, a gentle reminder that this is a lot, but it's also so, so good. "I love you, Reg." Reggie smiles at him. "I love you too Honey." Willie says, taking his other hand and turning Bobby's face up towards his. Bobby turns away, suddenly shy, but not ashamed. It's cute. "Luke!" Willie exclaims, maybe too loud in the silent space, but it doesn't matter. None of them mind. "I love you man!" The studio is filled with laughter, a little hysterical with joy, the boys collapse into each other on "Luke's" couch. Alex thinks they can safely say it'll turn into "their" couch pretty fast. When they've calmed down a little, Alex props himself up on his elbows to glance at the boys on both sides of him.  
"So," He ventures, uncertain, but for the first time in a long time, not anxious about asking. "Does this mean we're all, like, together now?" He chuckles at the end, realizing how silly it sounds out loud.  
"We better be." Bobby grumbles, and drapes his arm over Alex's waist, tugging him back to lay down.  
"Aw, you're such a grouch." Reggie teases him fondly. Bobby tries to kick him in retaliation, but it doesn't work with Reg behind him. Legs don't really bend like that. "Be nice." Reggie orders, and nips Bobby's ear. The rhythm guitarist sighs dramatically, but everyone can see the blush on Bobby's cheeks.  
"Whatever." Bobby says, but it comes out less annoyed and more content. How could he not be? He's surrounded by the people he loves most.  
"Let's make a boy sandwich," Willie announces, directed toward Reggie, who's on the other end of the couch, Alex, Bobby and Luke in between them.   
"That's such a weird thing to say," Luke laughs.  
"Better get used to me saying weird things babe," Willie replies, slinging his arm over to Reggie's. The pet name makes Luke grin.   
"Aren't you the one who always says we're all a little crazy anyway?" Alex asks. He sounds sleepy. The drummer is warm and comfortable and he hasn't slept well in a while. Plus, it's just nice. Sue him.  
"Crazy isn't the same as weird." Bobby murmurs. He's tired too, in a good way. It's a new feeling, but Bobby could get used to it. "And I think we'll all need to get used to a lot of things." He's kind of looking forward to it.  
"Everything and nothing will change." Luke says, strangely profound. Alex tenses slightly.  
"Like Bobby said, it'll be a process, but we're all willing to go through it." Reggie says, a preemptive strike against Alex's anxiety.  
"More than just willing." Willie winks. Bobby groans.  
"You're so lame." He rolls his eyes.  
"You love it." Willie says, flirtatious.   
"I do." Bobby admits.  
"You guys should kiss." Luke chimes in. It's a very helpful suggestion, and it takes a bit of rearranging, but it is very worth it. Alex murmurs: wow, when Bobby and Willie pull apart.  
"Agreed." Luke says triumphantly.  
"You look so good together Precious." Reggie praises softly.  
"Thanks," Willie whispers, a little awestruck.  
"Hey sweetheart," Reg begins, getting Luke's attention. "Everyone seems awful comfy. You think we could get some sleep?" It's a legitimate question, and Luke is touched by it. All those restless nights spent with Reggie had taught the other boy something about Luke. Staying still for no reason hurts sometimes. Reg understands that, out of all of them. Harmlessly phrased, Reggie is really asking: is your brain and body tired enough to be in sink enough to let you sleep. It's convoluted and largely unsaid, but an understanding passes between Luke and Reggie.  
"I think that sounds great." Luke whispers, for Alex, Willie and Bobby's benefit.  
"This is fucking perfect." Bobby confesses, completely devoid of sarcasm.  
"It really is." Alex echoes.  
"I thought we were sleeping?" Luke asks, laughter dancing in his dark eyes.   
"We are." Willie admonishes.  
"We are." Reggie agrees, and that's final. The five fall asleep intertwined with arms and legs, as their souls have been anchored together for weeks now. And though they're asleep, none of them have ever felt more awake or alive.


End file.
